THE SACRED PAUSE: LIGHT

Have you ever pondered what it would be like to be totally blind? We verify our location in space by seeing where we are. We recognize the familiar by seeing it repeatedly until our brains know the patterns of what we see and then recognize. With the familiar it happens in a split second. With the unfamiliar, we have to look closely to really “see” the critical characteristics of what we are focusing on. Visual focus depends on light. I’ve been to Carlsbad Caverns in southern New Mexico. When they turn out the lights for a minute, you literally can focus on nothing - darkness enshrouds you completely. There is much to see, but you can’t because light is utterly absent.

When John tells us in his Gospel that “in [Christ] was life and that life was the light of men . . . the true light that gives life to every man . . .”(John 1:4-9) he describes a miracle. What was previously hidden from view, i.e., Jesus, the Savior and Redeemer of the world, has now been revealed. God has come to us and we see him in Jesus, who oddly enough looks like one of us - human. The light that led to life was the reality that Jesus came to sacrifice himself on a cross, atoning fully for our sin so we might receive his righteousness through grace by faith. Our sin was washed away so life to the full might commence in us now and grow to full bloom in eternity.

The sheer intensity of this Gospel light exposed the tyrannical dictatorship of sin and death over us. The more intense the light, the easier it is to see. Dim light makes it difficult to pick out detail, giving only faint shapes and blurry outlines. The law exposed our sin; it let us know we were in dire straits, but it couldn't “give life to every man.” It was not “bright” enough, and had to be kept lit by keeping all the law. Jesus, the redemptive God-man was the brilliant intensity strong enough to end death’s catastrophic reign over humanity living in darkness until his revealing. The Light of the world brought healing, peace with God, and the beginning of the entire Creation’s restoration someday.

All this might feel a bit abstract, “hard to see,” but it applies simply to your life. Because you believed in him and what he has done, or perhaps you're trying to work that out, you’ve been given “the right to become [a child] of God.” This birth is not of human origin, rather you have been “born of God.” (John 1:12-13). Your Father in heaven has given you a transcending light, thus opening “the eyes of your heart” so you recognize this Jesus. The light has come and a deep darkness is vanquished. You are able to see beyond the veil: Immanuel, God is with us.”

The light of God drew you at a point in your life to catch a glimpse, at first, of the faint outlines of Jesus coming toward you in your heart. He gradually came into clear view so you could see him as he is and be convinced he's the God of all, surrendering your life because your eyes comprehended stunning beauty and mercy and love and truth. The light dawned on your understanding and your life was revealed as part of a bigger LIFE animating the entire universe. 

God's light as revealed in Jesus made you see what wasn't there before.

The light healed your blindness and made your eyes to see . . .

Take a few minutes to let the Holy Spirit illuminate the following questions and open the eyes of your heart:

1. Jesus, where in this season of new life and birth are you beckoning me to see something of your nature more clearly?

2. Father, where do I still dwell in darkness concerning your love for me, the freedom you invite me to, or the purity of heart you want for me?

3. Abba, this Christmas, give me the ability to see my life more clearly in the light of Kingdom you’ve called me to live within and bring to others who can’t see you yet, or just don’t want to.

So Many in Our World Will Never Know They Matter.

On Sunday nights I'm fond of, when I can, watching a program called Undercover Boss. The premise of the show is the CEO goes undercover and goes out in the field (last night it was Johnny Rockets, a quasi-retro burger joint) as a new hire or trainee to get a birds-eye view of what it's like to work in the company at the grass-roots level. They often stumble into human interest stories of which they were unaware. It can be very poignant what they discover.

I  am drawn especially to the working people who struggle to raise their kids and make ends meet day in and day out. They're often the "hard-luck" people who've never seemed to get untracked for whatever reason.What sociologists refer to as the working-class comprise a large portion of the people who work in our fast food places, big box stores and service businesses. They tend to be hourly workers or low-salaried. Nevertheless, they love their kids, and want to provide a better life for them. The people highlighted are dedicated to the work they do. They have passion and integrity to provide the service or do the job well. Some show a flair for creativity, even panache.

So last night one of the people highlighted was a guy working as a Shift Manager in an Atlantic City Johnny Rockets restaurant. He had a sad tale to tell of the unsolved murder of his daughter. He was convinced he knew who the perpetrator and took revenge on him, hurting him badly enough to warrant prison time. After he got out, his life was in shambles. He was homeless, living under the Boardwalk until he was given a chance at this job.

The undercover boss was so moved by his tragic story that he generous helped him financially, reducing the man to tears. But what the Shift Manager said in shocked gratitude caught my attention most. He said that no one had ever noticed him enough to do anything like what the CEO did. I couldn't forget what he said and what it meant.

I realized that innumerable people over the world now and throughout history live(d) the totality of their existence never knowing they matter a whit to anybody. They're mostly " fixture people" - they're just fixtures strewn about in our lives, not people we relate to -  we walk by every day without really seeing them. They are persons of little interest to us. They remove our garbage, clean our public bathrooms and hotel rooms. They serve our fast food, drive our buses, and cashier at our local food market . They might be addicts, panhandlers, prostitutes, the wandering mentally ill, or just street people hanging around with no particular place to go or initiative to get there. We glance at them and dismiss their common humanity. The uncomfortable truth is: they bear the same image of God as do we.

This morning I looked into the broken, sad eyes of such a person today. He looked cold and uncomfortable because of an old injury. He really just looked tired and miserable. He is a man who never got past what happened to him many years ago. I see him often. I call him by name and when he calls me 'sir," I remind him I am not a "sir" to anyone. My name is Kit. He mostly doesn't remember my name. I asked him if he needed anything. He looked up at me (he crouches much of the time), and said hesitantly, almost under his breath, "I'm hungry," then averted his eyes

I said, "I'll be right back." I went to our apartment and we heated up some homemade turkey and rice soup. I got him some bread and butter, an apple and shortbread. We gave him a Dunkin' Donuts Gift Card - they can sit in there as long as they pay for something and are not disruptive. I brought it back to him. He was surprised and grateful saying "God bless you." as he always does. I looked him right in the eye and said "God wants you to you matter a great deal to him. He wants you to never forget that," and I used his name. He needed to hear it. And I plan to keep trying to show him that its true. I don't want to treat him like a fixture in my very important life.

What the Shift Manager said last night on Undercover Boss helped me realize how many people learn they do not matter at all because of the way they are routinely treated, especially as not particularly worth knowing beyond being the other side of a service transaction at a store, or a walk-by and glance-away transaction on a city street. Most of them don't really matter all that much to most of us, and they learn to expect as much. They are rendered insignificant.

As Jesus-followers we are not given the OK to ignore people everyone else ignores. We are summoned to offer them the level of dignity the image they bear affords them even if they've not worn it well. We do not treat them as subservient even if they are serving us in some capacity. We honor the common humanity we share with them. We find ways to show interest in them as persons with stories not fixtures only there to meet our passing need. Remember, God has a special heart for his lowly, broken and forgotten children.

The Kingdom of God is the place where everyone is invited to the Banquet of the Shepherd King, the Host of redemption:

"Then Jesus said to his host, "When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." (Luke 14:12-14)

The Church carries the Kingdom of God to the world, one person at a time mostly. There are no fixtures in the church, only people who've found out they matter beyond their wildest imagining, or at least they're invited to find out. The church is a place where this happens on earth. It's a crazy-quilt family where helping people discover they matter should be a prime directive.

I sadly realize people arrive and leave this earth never knowing they were invited by God to his banquet all along. They spent their years as whispers and glimpses most thought never worth exploring further.

But I bet God's heavenly banquet table will be jam-packed with the world's forgotten who woke up to Jesus smiling at them, calling their name with a love so penetrating they became who they really are in the twinkling of eye. They will never be fixtures in his eternity.

So maybe when you and I are going about our very important business every day we could chance a pause in the midst of one of our very important transactions with the nameless image-bearer across from us to ask how they're doing or maybe thank them for their hard work, especially the folks whose tired facial lines show the weight they've been carrying for years. Or notice the faces of people you walk or drive by and ask God how to pray for them. However you do it, find ways to tell people they matter to you and to God.

Remember: many or most the people you encounter will have never heard that from anyone. Their Father wants to tell them through you and me.

imagine/Northampton's First Christmas Giveaway.

Last Saturday was a sunny, but cold and blustery day. You noticed the bite because of the wind. Three weeks prior, I'd sent out an invitation to imagine's supporters and friends giving them the opportunity to donate so we could buy a bag or two to hand out to homeless men and women on the street. We figured they'd be between $20-25 per bag. The folks generously sent nearly $1000!

We had different bags for men and women. Each was chock-full of things such as:

• gift cards for food and phone calls, appointment books (recommended by the Interfaith Shelter),
• gloves, scarves, t-shirts, and socks, hand sanitizer,
• washcloths, shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste, brushes, hairspray, Blistex, body lotion, hand wipes,
• nail clippers, Kleenex, razors, appointment books (recommended by the Interfaith Shelter),
• candies

Southwick Community Episcopal Church even donated 10 blankets for us to give away. The bags were bursting. It was amazing to see them all lined up ready to go. We had 36 in all.

Before we went out we paired up into 5 teams, figured out who was going to go where, and prayed for God's favor to lead us to people who could really use what we had to give. We also wanted to delight them as a measure of the gracious and unexpected love of God.

As we were putting the bags together some of us noted that due to the wind and cold, it appeared there weren't many homeless out. I noticed none of the folks I routinely see and talk to were in their usual spots. Drat! We really wanted to give away all the bags we had.

So out the door we went. Tricia and I headed west up Main Street. We encountered a Vet in a wheelchair who collects money for other Vets. He's friendly and talkative. We approached him and said "this is for you. Merry Christmas (You got it. We didn't say "happy holidays"). We handed him a blanket too. His eyes were wide open with surprise and he started to cry. I asked him his name and told him God loves him and he responded that God loves me too. He asked if he could give it to someone more needy and we agreed. He is a generous man and cares for homeless folks even though he's in a wheelchair. I've seem him do it.

We moved on and gave one to Daniel, a street musician who "works hard for the money." He's out there playing guitar and singing no matter the cold, heat or precipitation. He smiled, nodded his head in thanks and said "God bless you," before picking up the tune where he'd left off.

We crossed Main Street and saw a young man sitting with a guitar in front of one of the candy stores in town. I walked up to him and repeated what I'd said to the first two. He was completely surprised and said "For me?" He seemed a little shell-shocked and thanked me as well. Later, he'd find us, give it back and ask us to give it to someone more needy as he was not homeless. His honesty was refreshing. In the next half hour, we encountered 5 more men, but no women. By then, the word was getting around that someone was handing out stuff and to be on the lookout. They were.

The entire walkabout and search for people took about an hour, I think. People were heading back to imagine because we were going to have lunch together after the Giveaway. We were all chilled, but felt pretty good we'd been able to hand out 24 of the 36 bags even though the "regulars" weren't around at all. In the days since, Tricia and I've found a few of them and given them blankets and bags. Some of the folks we usually see still aren't on the street. If we can't before next Wednesday, we will give them to the Northampton Interfaith Shelter. One way or the other, they'll get to people who need them.

As I think about our first try at this, I realize we had little idea what to expect: How would people respond? Would we insult anyone by assuming they were homeless and try to give them a bag? Would we hesitate or would it feel awkward all of us parading around with gift bags full of stuff and blankets under our arms? We stood out after awhile. As I said, the word got around and fast.

In the end, I think we experienced doing another "let's see what happens" team event again, and are learning about the people in this town, who we are as imagine/Northampton, and how God is using us to gently build relationships with folks. We really are in still the learning phase of the mission and maybe will always be. We have few answers these days, but the mission is God's and he has us working it with him.

Also, gathering together over a meal, kids and all, and hanging out after is solidifying us as a community. We like being around each other and sharing this imagine/Northampton adventure as friends around Jesus, each in our own way. That day was a pleasure and a gift to us.

It remains a remarkable joy to me to give and see people be delighted, even moved. Kindness and generosity are lovely gestures of God's affection for people even far from him, or folks whose brokenness now defines all their days. Just being around God's kindness and generosity lifts my spirit. And Christmas is the perfect time to do this reflecting of God's love in giving his son to the world. Christmas should never be the only time for doing so, however.

In many ways, imagine/Northampton's Christmas Giveaway was a simple and small gesture that might not change anyone's

Lastly, seeing the imaginistas all bundled up and out on the street, in the wind and cold, trying to bless people was a happiness to me too. It feels like "this is what we're to be about:" giving, helping, blessing and recognizing people who may have made a frightful mess of things, or maybe have experienced setbacks and horrors which crushed their spirits. I don't know for sure, but I love seeing imagine/Northampton embracing such loving enterprise.

The Kingdom of God is revealed and present when we all do this sort of thing, whether spontaneously or planned. It's our task as Jesus-followers to carry his love to everyone so they might see him, even if its just something like a blanket or gift bag at Christmas time.

Father, give your people everywhere more more opportunity to do these kinds of things and infinitely more. Make us fully willing and able to follow through.

THE SACRED PAUSE: Advent Reflection on Hoping

 Below is what we at imagine/Northampton visit us for our Advent event called the Sacred Pause. It is self-directed and multi-sensory, but conducive to reflecting on Advent.

Season of Advent: THE SACRED PAUSE

HOPING

The Scripture says “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” (Pr. 12:12) Hope is a very powerful attitude of the heart and mind. We choose to hope in the light of the faith we’ve put in Christ because we are convinced he is who he says he is. There is evidence that Jesus Christ is Immanuel (God [truly is] with us) in our lives. We’ve experienced him in worship, come to know him through the Scriptures, taught and preached, heard his “still small voice” in prayer and contemplation, had prayer answered, and experienced the testimonies of other Jesus-followers about his presence in their lives.

The essence of all hope is to wish or long for something with expectation of its fulfillment. Implicit in hope is confidence that what you hope for will come to be; otherwise it’s merely a desired fantasy. Hope desires what is hoped for; it looks forward to receiving or experiencing what is prized.

Hope enlivens the hopeful. It takes the edge off the troubles and afflictions of life. It steels the will toward good things to come, and focuses the heart on living well by doing good all the time. But, hope does not settle just for the “now.” It wants more because it has had glimpses, heard whispers and enjoyed subtle foretastes of glories and delights to come.

“Hope is the dream of a soul awake.” (French Proverb)

During the Advent /Christmas season we experience in a small part what we are hoping for: Christ was born and lived in real-time. We were born into true life through him in the present and when we take our first steps into eternity. We remember and celebrate Jesus’ birth in light of his death and resurrection. We wait not for his first birth, but for the birth of a redeemed creation where all will be set to right, the tears and pain will be gone, and life beyond what we can imagine will fill our “days.”   

Sometimes, though, our hope in almost everything feels challenged. We go through all sorts of valleys of “the shadow of death,” and our hope can be frustrated or wounded. We wear down. Yet, with each new Advent we have the chance to renew our hope because of “Christ in [us] the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27) The entire, glorious Christmas story can kindle a renewed inching back toward hoping again, for some, even hoping against all hope. Advent and Christmas freshens all of life if we look for it.

You see, hope contemplated can be hope revived and deepened. More so, contemplating the One in whom we have set our hope strengthens us to resilience and renewed expectation. Such hope holds on with grounded anticipation. It waits, but with a forward tilt and open heart.

The question is where are you “tilting” this Advent season? Does there seem too much “hope deferred,” in your life? Have fears or worries gained a foothold, weighing you down so you can’t even enter into the anticipating and celebrating. Is fatigue smothering your ability to hold fast to hope and joy? Is family pain, loss of work, or lack money snatching  Advent and Christmas from you? There’s hope.

Take time to sit in the grace-soaked “pause” with your Abba. Breathe slowly and lift your cares to him as they come into your thoughts, each one. Ask him to settle you into peaceful stillness where urgency and stress aren’t welcome. When it feels right, ask him the following questions and listen to what he will show you:

1. Father, how have I let the cares and struggles of my life gradually silence my hope? Where are you inviting me to desire and expect again?

2. Father, how would you have my soul come “awake” to you afresh this Advent season?

3. Lord, teach me more of the reality of “Christ in me, the hope of glory.”